Got milk?
by Spyder1070
Summary: Murdoc lays in the Winnie. An ulcer burning it way through his stomach wall. "Won't someone help a dying man"? He moans pitifully. Read on to see if anyone answers. ONE SHOT.


Murdoc is laying in his Winnie, complaining to himself about a small sharp pain in his stomach. He rubs the painful spot and curses his digestive system again. Closing his eyes and breathing sharply, he pants a little at the ceiling and lets out a small moan of pain.

"Ahhhrgh. Stupid ulcers.W,w,why don't you rack off and bug a lawyer. " he opens one eye and looks at the fridge. Reaching out his hand and swiping vainly at the air, while attempting to psychically will it into moving closer to him. "Ack! Too far, too far." he says, as he comes to the conclusion that his telekinetic efforts just aren't paying off. And with another long drawn out moan, finally lets his hand drop uselessly beside the bed. He grumbles and rubs his stomach again, pulling his legs up slightly into an almost foetal position. "Nothin for it...I'll hafta e-mail Rrrrrrussel." he groans and surprisingly without any pain, sits up rapidly and grabs his lap top from the side table. He lights a cigarette and types a small note to the Drummer.

"**_Go to the first floor kitchen and rustle me up a glass of milk, Russel. Heh, heh. That was a joke. Get it? rustle/Russel. Just get me the milk. (:_**"

Muds sits back and moans again, waiting for his milk. After a short while, he hears a bling from his computer and looks down at the screen. An e-mail? He sits up and pulls up the message. It's from Russel. The message reads...

"**_Get up off your scrawny green arse and get it yourself. D:_**"

Muds glares angrily at the screen and shakes his fist at it. "Why you.... Argh!" he snaps and punches an angry reply into the keyboard.

"_**I can't! I've got an ulcer. Get me my milk!**_"

He stabs viciously out at the last key stroke, emphasising his annoyance and pain. Then sends it while fuming and muttering a long string of swear words into his chest. His stomach sends a small shock of pain through him and he lays back, moaning again. The laptop blings again making Muds pause and raise his head from the pillow and his eyes the computer screen. "Oh Hells Bells! What now!" he screeches, sitting up again and pulling up the reply. Once again it's Russel.

"**_Where are you? O_o_**"

"AAARRRGGGHHH! I'm dyin here! I don't have time for....". Muds grabs at his hair and roars. Then slams a quick response.

"**_The Winnie!! WHERE'S MY MILK????!!!!_**"

He rubs his stomach and stares at the screen, waiting and knowing for sure there would be another message to follow. Sure enough, BLING! Muds pulls his fist back as if getting ready to punch the screen. But instead takes a deep breath and pulls up the response instead.

"**_There's a kitchen on the first floor, you know. Actually, there's one in the Winnie. WHY ARE YOU BUGGIN ME???!!! DD:_**"

Muds screams at the laptop and fires off an angry reply.

"**_STOP BEING A FAT, LAZY SLOB AND GET ME MY MILK!!!!!!! DDD:_**"

Russel quickly responds.

"**_SOD OFF WITH YOUR POWER TRIPS AND GET IT YOURSELF!!!!! DDDD:_**"

Sitting at the table in the first floor kitchen, the drummer flips off his computer and finishes eating his sandwich. The roar from Murdoc, resounds off the walls. The sound almost seems to move bodily through the corridors of the haunted studio. Vibrating the walls and opening doors with the shock wave that builds in front of it. Outside, the ravens sitting quietly off the roof suddenly take off in fright from the reverberating sound of one single booming profanity. And that one word was coming from Murdoc. Russel sits straight up in the chair and stops chewing. His vacant eyes grow wider and wider, as the sound smashes it's way into the room and straight into his ear. Before it charges out through the balcony door, and leaps over the railing. He blinks rapidly and shakes his head.

"Wow! Dats dah loudest swear word, I've ever heard." he says, then chuckles into his chest and takes another bite from his sandwhich.

Back in the Winnie, Muds grinds his teeth and pulls at his sheets. Digging his nails deeply into the mattress. "Fine!" he shouts at the computer, and e-Mails 2D instead.

"**_Gemme milk. First floor kitchen. NOW!_**"

He stabs angrily at the keys. Then sits back, arms folded and eyes blazing at the screen, waiting for a response. BLING! The bassist lets out a deep guttural growl.

"**_Why? :)_**"

Muds stares at it for a moment, almost in disbelief. Then slaps his hand over his eyes, shaking his head, as if he'd just realised who he'd just messaged.

"**_COZ I SAID SO. NOW GEMME MY MILK!!! luv Muds._**"

The old man types, adding the 'luv Muds' sarcastically. Once done he tips his head back on his sholders and moans. Rolling it from side to side. "It's not like I'm asking too much." he says to himself, staring at the ceiling. BLING! Muds eyes open wide and he slowly drops his chin back down to his chest. Robot like he reaches out and opens the message. Expecting to find himself reading a message from the keyboardist, asking 'What's milk?' or something similar.

"**_Oh, ok. :D I love you to. ^^_**"

Muds snatches his hand back from the laptop, as if it's keys are suddely diseased. "Ewww. You dirty little sod." he says to himself with a shudder. But now happy that he's finally getting his milk, he shuts off the laptop and settles back in the bed. "Ahhh, it's good to be the king." he smiles, grinning from ear to ear.


End file.
